User blog comment:Brigadier Barty/Red Tables/@comment-2246928-20141111003147/@comment-2246928-20141207003644

The vole nodded. "Well, for what it's worth the kitchen staff inside are going to be making some nice warm oatmeal for brekkist tomorrow." He gave the squirrel a pleasant smile, before moving on to the next troops.

Elise nodded turtly. "Good. Durther, git over here!" A molemaid scurried up, covered in a thick layer of dirt. "Ma'am?" The mouse bit her lip, placing a paw on the maid's velvety shoulder. "Ye know what to do. Ye got yore splinters?" "Yup!" "Good. Be back with the otter as soon as ye can." Durther curtsied, before taking Malachi by the paw and leading him through the gates and outside. As the gates closed behind them, Malachi was left with a feeling of complete and absolute insecurity. No birds sung in the trees, no beast walked down the path, no insect darted through the bush. For what it was worth, the whole entire world outside the walls of Redwall Abbey might as well have been completely blank of noise, movement, or organism, but the gently swaying trees that just didn't seem so pleasant anymore... Durther's sweet voice interrupted Malachi's thoughts as she spoke, fiddling about with the strong iron locks that had just been installed within the woodwork of the gates. "Watch fer anythin' ye daon't loike, zurr. Oi daon't want ter end oop stayin' oot 'ere permanent-loik."

The otteress smiled at Sirinius' guess. "No. Just a sniper. I wager there's more 'n' just 'im, too. 'E's a big brute, an' allus perfectly quiet an' still. I only knaow 'e's there because the tree doesn't sway as much as the others. Added weight, y' see."